Sir Effergras
by mihairu7
Summary: A tale of a Lord surnamed Effergras and the fate bestowed upon his life. /forgive the vague explanation, I will update that and the rating if the story is deemed worthy of more than a single chapter/


**I've recently found that I can post my own original stories on and I'm quite excited (I just figured since this site was all about fanfiction, it wouldn't have an original story section... silly me, right?) to reveal this little snippet of my work to you.**

**Please pardon the fact that there isn't much to read for this chapter, I usually aim for a word count at least 4k or higher.**

**Do tell me what you think about this, I'm open to any and all comments(yes, that includes flames), as this particular chapter was written about two years ago as a simple one-shot to spur my imagination, however, if you do end up liking it and enough people review, I'll do my best to create follow up chapters.**

**I hope you enjoy the work I belted out when I was still a wee tadpole. Please note that I have not edited this as I want an opinion on the raw draft compiled years ago and _not_ a version edited by a wiser me.**

**Thank you for understanding! :D**

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"In the centuries of the old era, scribes once wrote of ancient civilisations built by the pioneering spirit of Man. These civilisations towered above the natural cliff faces and hilltops of the terrain it inhabited; which shadowed the trees from the sun's light and imposed the surrounding lifeforms of nature with its physical dominance. Testing, daring and threatening both alpha and omega of the great forests of Gurthanion. None dared to venture out into the bordering fields of this fortress, however, for behind the dark atmosphere this civilisation held lay the bloodlust of the very beings that created such domains of darkness.

"During a period of long age, other races of their kin raised catastrophic armies clothed in the glinting chrome of the Earth and armed with instruments that obliterated the plains and dyed the rivers with red. Onward they had all marched in unison towards the imposing structure of malevolence, creating violent tremors in their wake that scattered the birds and caused even the great beasts to seek refuge inside the natural shelters of the Earth. So great was their might, their ferocity and lust for power against that of their own kind that the Heavens wept in sorrow so mournful it fell upon them like a waterfall of despair. Yet, however great their forces were, and how deadly the armaments of their militia possessed, it did nothing but scratch the black and silver walls of this mighty leviathan power. For if one of a cruel and greedy heart be compelled to enslave their people tooth and nail, surely then will the hearts of such a people become consumed by a greater ferocity of hate that strengthens the stones of the monuments they build. And so, the throngs of kin outside of those walls were slain by the twisted powers of their ruler who smote the ground with vengeful flames that burned black, tearing flesh from bone and ripping the plains asunder with death and destruction. From the bowels of its armoury came its soldiers cloaked head-to-foot in death; rust coloured breastplates that withstood the assault of magic projectiles, swords and hammers made of obsidian that cleaved heads from shoulders and gleaming white boots that crushed the skulls of their foes.

"Even after a victory more mournful than joyous, their kingdom continued its assault upon the life around it; with their tireless fires of industry that fell the trees and corrupted the forests with a decay so foul it maddened the wildlife to mutation, the once gentle waters that sparkled with the scales of beautiful fish boiled with a rotten odour killing the reeds and devouring the souls of passers-by that drank from its hallowed depths, unaware of the foulness such liquid now contained. But such a kingdom ruled by a being of such ill will also suffers from his greed, and his people it's corruption… for in the last decade of the old century came a drought of the mind that turned friend against friend, fighting for the man-made treasure that was currency; which in turn sparked a revolution against the king's forces and soon the dark country purged itself from the inside out until all that remained were the empty forges, forgotten halls and bloodstained pieces of gold and silver, rusted and eaten now by the passages of time, for not a soul survived in that territory after the events of the Last Bloodshed. Thus the forest of Gurthanion was renamed _Hortvale Azdrun_ by the people outside of its deathly embrace, for the screams of the souls lost there could still be heard during the change of season when the sun burned amber as the wind blew west from the everlasting eeriness of that abandoned fortress that was forever named _Bafrigeer, _for the scent of decay never strayed from its confines even after the pure fall of Spring's heavy rains that cleansed the streams and rivers, if only a little. Many still do well to avoid the dark domain of Bafrigeer even today, for the beasts that were turned to death's pets that day still remain in the dead foliage of the cold forests; ever watchful, ever vigilant for the day their king will rise from his eternal slumber in the North and stride through the lowered drawbridge to place the putrefied crown upon his brow once again, and resume the rule of a land so dark, Death itself walks openly though its fields…"

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Sidon blinked a few times before turning his eyes away from the pages of the textbook on his study. With a yawn he stretched his arms above his and stood from his chair, walking to the open window to feel the cool sea breeze blow in his face and brush his light blonde hair back with its gentle fingers.

"Tired of studying already I see." he turned to face his companion resting his back against the lower bunk bed of the small room, grinning in amusement.

"Well I don't exactly see a Tome of Sorcery or a text on Pygerian Combat in your hands."

His roommate's grin only widened in reply, waking from his bed to stand next to Sidon and look out at the view. Guren Spyke was taller than he was - if only by a few inches due to Sidon being a year younger - yet he also possessed the attitude of a young child and an air of cockiness wherever he went that escalated a situation more than calmed one. Nevertheless, he was still like a brother to Sidon and didn't deny the amount of times the slender youth had bailed him out of dangerous scenarios, both with his combat and magic prowess and his loud presence itself.

"Forgive me if my ability to memorize everything isn't acceptable in your opinion." Was his reply to which Sidon scoffed and propped an arm against the corner of the windowsill. Guren raised an eyebrow and grinned again.

"My, my Sir. Effergras… if I didn't know any better, I'd think you were jealous."

"Oh, it's not jealousy, certainly not. I just find the method of absorb and regurgitate utterly unappealing is all."

Sidon allowed himself a smile as his friend laughed loudly and slapped him lightly on the back. The light crystals that lit the room turned everything golden for a few moments as it rotated on its pedestal, changing the atmosphere and making gravity feel lighter for a good time before it returned to its usual beige hue. The two of them enjoyed the view of the city below bustling in the afternoon sun's glow, before seating themselves down in their respective chairs facing one another.

"So, the ceremony is tomorrow, is it?"

"Indeed… all the scholars in their final year will be set in one-on-one duels to test their aptitude in combat, magical proficiency and original spell creation."

Sidon sighed lightly and glanced at the clock on the wall which read twenty minutes to nine; and proceeded to climb the small ladder to his top bunk. Guren noted the time and did the same, before reciting an ancient phrase and opening his hand that suddenly began to expel sparks of purple lightning that danced in a flurry of appearing and disappearing poles of electricity from finger to finger. He allowed the tempo of the mini tesla-coil to increase slightly before dispersing it and closing his fingers into a fist.

"Say, did you figure out what spell you're going to create yet?" he asked, staring up at Sidon's mattress in question, "it might be the only thing that can guarantee you a passing grade into the Imperial Army."

"I have been researching more and more about it lately," Sidon replied staring at the ceiling, "however, I don't think it will work with the current reserves of my mana."

Guren frowned and shifted to rest on his side, "Are you still thinking of using that Grimoire we found under the Ancient Oakshore Library?"

"At this point it may be my only way to effectively stretch my reserves for my spell to actually work."

"Though I understand it grants the reader the mana reserves of a Sage, do you still think it's wise to use?" Guren countered, his right hand cradling his head against the pillow.

"Because of what the appraisal merchant said?"

Guren nodded before grunting and closing his eyes, "he said it contained the aura of the ancient kingdom of Bafrigeer's wizardry. If it were me, I wouldn't risk using something as unknown as that dark domain's magic."

"There's no denying I should be sceptical about a book that's over four centuries old, but I then again do you really think something so old would still possess some, if any, dark powers in it now of all days? Besides… when you look at the so called 'dark magic' spells and user's today, I really doubt it was that bad from then to now; irrelevant of what these text's say, they're probably just over-exaggerations to shy the arising soldiers away from dark magic for obvious reasons such as soul prison spells and the like."

Sidon heard his friend laugh below him and he smiled. All was well, he would be fine tomorrow whether the grimoire worked or not.

"You make a good argument. Just know I'll still be with you with whatever choice you decide Effergras."

"That's all I ask, buddy."

"Then to greater power tomorrow it is!"

And without further conversation, they bother dozed off as the light crystal's glow faded, leaving the room to be lit by the ethereal power of the moon.


End file.
